


Stargazed

by RileyHummel, RobertColfer



Category: Glee
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Character Death, Gen, Ghost!Kurt, Homophobic Language, M/M, Supernatural Elements, Violence, kid!blaine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:21:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28096836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RileyHummel/pseuds/RileyHummel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobertColfer/pseuds/RobertColfer
Summary: Blaine Anderson is in and out of the hospital a lot throughout his life - and every-time, there’s a boy with a red bow tie named Kurt to keep him company.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	1. They Meet

Tiny hands grip tightly at the blanket covering, bottom lip sucked tight inside a thin line of a mouth. There are occasional sounds from outside the door, in which a warm light shines under. Shadows passed by there a few times, but no one entered. Leaving six-year-old Blaine Anderson quaking alone. 

It was after dark, and even if he wasn’t particularly scared of it that didn’t mean he was going to flip the side lamp off. The dark brought shadows with it. His imagination was wild already at this age, he didn’t need to delve into that creative space so easily - not when Halloween was only a month away by now. He remembered the movies. Even if he tended to be hiding behind his Star Wars blanket, pressed tight against his older brother who could only laugh at him. 

His brother. The reason he was alone like this. His brother, who had thrown a fit about the idea of staying in the hospital tonight of all nights. He had his big opening night for the high school play of Newsies, staring as Jack Kelly, tonight of all nights. It was important to him. And what was important to him, was important to their parents. It wasn’t every night that you got the lead in a play. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. He needed to do what he could to get his name out there. A high school play? It was more than that. He let Blaine know just how important it was when Blaine looked so saddened at the idea of being left in the hospital alone. It was only a few hours. He could handle a few hours alone. He wasn’t a baby anymore. This would be good practice for Blaine to prove he was a big boy now and growing up. So Blaine had nodded in agreement when Cooper told him why their parents had to be there. And not here. Not with him. 

It wasn’t like he had planned to get that high fever that landed him here. It wasn’t like he planned to not keep anything down for the last two days. This wasn’t planned. This wasn’t a dramatic show to scream for his parents attention. He would be going home tomorrow. He could handle it. He was quick and smart for a six-year-old. He understood. His brother’s big night was important. He had promised his mom and dad that he understood. He said he’d be fine for a few hours. So long as his mom came back when it was over. 

How long do plays normally last?

Too long. 

There was a scuffle in the hall and Blaine sinks further down on his bed, pulling the blanket with him. It uncovers his bed companion, a stuffed white bunny with a pink nose and bow tied around its neck, reminding Blaine that it was here for comfort. The one and only thing that could offer comfort right now, even if it’s motionless body wasn’t calming him like it normally did. 

Tears were threatening to push their way up behind his eyes, and he tried to blink them away. Cooper’s taunting voice echoing in his ears about how only babies cried, unless a director told you otherwise. He wasn’t a baby. He was turning seven soon. He wasn’t a cry baby. He could hold out. That’s what big boys did. He knew that. He sniffles, reaching in to pull the soft bunny closer against his chest. 

Another scuffle, and then a loud yell, then running fading down the hall. That didn’t sound good. He lets the tears fall. The sob getting caught in his throat as he curls up around his bunny friend, hiding his face from the empty hospital room. The shaky cries echoing softly as he tries to repress the tightness in his chest, wanting so bad to not be loud right now. If he was going to cry, he didn’t want to be noticed. That would be embarrassing. What would his brother say if he found out?

“Why are you crying?” 

A voice invades Blaine’s senses, and he takes a moment to look up through his tears. Confusion clouds his judgement. He doesn’t recognize that voice. It isn’t his family, that’s for sure. And he knows it isn’t his doctor or one of the night nurses either. 

At first Blaine doesn’t see anyone. The room itself is dimly lit by only the bedside lamp, so there’s shadows still lurking in corners. Then there’s movement that catches his eye. Someone was standing in the far dark corner of his room. How had Blaine not noticed the person before? How long had they been there? Were they here to run more tests? Poke him with needles? He hated needles so much. His fingers flex around his stuffed animal at the mere thought of the intrusive things coming near him. He felt like a pin cushion on his arrival, and didn’t want to make that a second-time thing. 

Sniffling, Blaine burrows further under his blankets, suddenly self-conscious and feeling a little guilty for crying. He was a big boy. He had to prove to Cooper that he wasn’t a cry baby anymore. Maybe this person would mock him for it. He couldn’t see their face, they were just a shadow within a shadow. It was unnerving not to make this person out, even if the voice sounded so gentle. 

“It’s okay, I’m not here to hurt you, Sweetheart.” The voice speaks again, seemingly reading Blaine’s thoughts. Still, the figure makes no movement to come closer. Blaine’s walls are still up as he fixes the stranger in his corner a weary look over the top of his stuffed bunny in hopes to get a better look at whom this figure was. But the figure remains right where it is, unmoving. “What’s your name?” It asks instead when Blaine still makes no verbal response. Only blinking wetly, and trying to make himself as small as possible. 

There’s a pause, but as if in slow motion he is slowly sitting up and uncurling. Keeping the toy tightly in his arms, he wipes at his face with a hand, collecting the fallen tears. 

“Blaine.” His voice coming out small. Almost in a whisper. 

He can’t make the figure out entirely still. He can see their outline at least. It seems to get thicker, really ruling out the figure being anything but human - even if Blaine had read all those comics about alien invasion, he could still keep his wits about him just-in-case, right? He can make out more than when they first spoke, though it doesn’t offer any details. It’s like a transparent image cast against the wall. Seemingly solid but not real all at the same time. Even so, Blaine can feel them smile and nod. It sets his mind at ease just a little. 

“Hi, Blaine.” The voice sends a shiver down Blaine’s body, chill pimples appearing on his arms. “That’s a very handsome name, I like it. It suits you. 

The figure’s voice is so soothing to him. It’s light and almost sounds musical to his ears, and Blaine feels comfortable enough to let his hunched shoulders relax enough so he isn’t bunched too tightly against his pillow. His hold on his bunny never loosens however, picking at and twirling the long ears around his fingers with another sniff, willing the tears away. “What’s your name?” He retaliates, looking towards the dark corner through his wet eyelashes. It was only fair, right? 

There’s a warm chuckle. Blaine doesn’t know if the person is laughing at him or not. “Oh, of course, how rude of me: I’m Kurt.” 

Kurt. Blaine decides he likes that name. It wasn’t a name he’s heard before, and it was definitely unique. Easy to say. Easy to pronounce. 

Sitting up straighter in his bed, he extends a hand out towards the figure - Kurt - who still has yet to remove himself from the shadows. “It’s very nice to meet you, Kurt.” Manners were important, even when meeting strange shadow people. His father would be proud. 

There’s a pause. And then a light shimmer of movement as Kurt emerges out of the shadows and more into the warm, soft light being cast from the bedside lamp near the bed. It keeps the room from being pitch dark, but still isn’t strong enough to be thought of as irritatingly bright to keep patients awake. Blaine notices that Kurt is definitely human, so that was one small relief. But he was also wearing normal clothes off the bat, not a hospital gown or a white coat. That sets his mind more at ease, seeing as he wasn’t here to poke and prod at him. Immediately he gives the man a bright smile as he approaches to shake his hand. He’s dressed in simple blue jeans, a vest, a button down striped shirt, with a red bow tie and a scissor brooch attached to one of the vests flaps. Blaine perks, already interested in this man and his fashion choices. He looked to be younger than his doctor, but definitely older than Cooper. His skin almost appearing see through he was so pale. But Blaine didn’t mind. He wasn’t in the shadows anymore, and Blaine liked his red bow tie especially. 

“You’re quite the dapper gentleman, Blaine.” Kurt compliments. Blaine can see the color of the mans eyes the closer he gets too. Stark blue. Like looking at books of space he had back home with all the pictures of stars and galaxies. Kurt’s eyes were exactly like that. Pretty. With perfectly coiffed chestnut hair, and a winning smile to match. 

Blaine decides he likes Kurt’s smile. And eyes. 

When Kurt shakes his hand, even if it is for a second or two, Blaine can’t help but to frown as his attention is brought to how weird it felt. That was odd. Kurt’s hands are freezing. Like he had plunged his hands into blocks of ice before coming over. The handshake was brief, but Blaine has to hide his hands under the covers with an involuntary shiver. 

“Who is this?” Kurt breaks Blaine’s momentary thought process, indicating the bunny still in Blaine’s arms. It draws the boys attention from cold hands to the fluffy thing he was still clinging to for dear life. He squeezes it with his arms, hiding his chin behind the fluffy ears.

A smile returns to Blaine’s face and the thought of cold hands leaves him. “Flopsy.” He says proudly. “My favorite stories my mama reads to me are about rabbits, like Peter Rabbit? Have you read that one before, Kurt? I have a copy!” Even making to point the book out on the nearby bedside table, where it still sat from where his mom had finished reading it to him only before she left. “Peter has siblings named Mopsy, Flopsy, and Cottontail. I think Flopsy fits, because of his ears. See.” 

Kurt gives another warm chuckle, nodding as he tilts his head when Blaine shows off the floppy nature of the rabbit toy’s ears.“That’s a very good name for a bunny, I agree.” Kurt says, folding his hands in front of himself with a bright smile that Blaine can’t help but to mirror best he can. “I have read the book, yes. My own father read it to me before — well, when I was your age.” Kurt almost sounds sad when he says this, but Blaine doesn’t pick up on it fast enough because Kurt is changing the subject again with ease. “You must be very smart then. All the people who I know who like books are. Do you think you’re smart, Blaine?”

Blaine beams from the compliment. It wasn’t very often he got compliments from people, and it always made him feel a sense of pride when he got one unwarranted. Turning his face away in embarrassment with a shrug, twisting the edge of the blankets around his fingers as he responds with. “Not as smart as my big brother.” He knew he wasn’t as smart as Cooper. 

“You have a brother?” 

Blaine nods slightly, adjusting in his bed some more so his legs are pulled closer to his center. “Yeah! I have a big brother named Cooper. He’s the only brother I have. But he’s really smart. He’s doing a play tonight, he got the lead in his school musical.” 

Kurt smiles. Blaine really likes that smile. It lights up his face, and Blaine can’t help himself but to think Kurt had to be the most beautiful person he’s ever seen when he smiles like that. So open. So natural. 

“Do you have any brothers, Kurt?” 

Those stargazed eyes drop from meeting Blaine’s, and Blaine can’t help but feel responsible somehow. Had he said something bad? Did he make Kurt sad? He didn’t want to do that. He needs to fix it. Somehow. Some way. Making the first friend he made here sad wasn’t on his to-do list. 

“I did, yes,” Kurt says after a moment, looking up to meet Blaine’s curious gaze once more. “Well, step-brother actually. His name is Finn.”

Finn and Kurt. Blaine decides he likes Finn too. Just because he’s Kurt’s brother. Kurt was so nice. Anyone with a brother this nice has to be nice too. 

“I only have one brother. Coop can be annoying, but I wouldn’t want another brother. He teaches me a lot of things, like how to dance.” He wiggles his feet beneath the blanket, giving Kurt another grin of his own. “Does Finn teach you how to dance?” 

Kurt laughs. An actual laugh. It sounds so light. Like what he is sure angels sound like. Now, of course, he has never heard an angel before to compare. But he still decides that if he did, it would sound the exact same. There’s no going back from that thought. It’s the best laugh. Blaine likes that sound too. He wants to hear it more. 

“No, no. Finn was never the best dancer. He had two left feet.” Kurt muses, shaking his head as he folds his arms over his chest. “I tried to teach him to do better, though he didn’t really take my advice. Or if he did, he forgot about it during the next dance rehearsal. He was more into sports, like football and basketball.” Judging by Kurt’s face at the mention of sports, Kurt wasn’t big on football or basketball.

“I play soccer at school!” Blaine interjects, sitting up straight and proud. “When I get older, I’ll play football too. I sometimes watch it on TV with Coop. I just wish there wasn’t a lot of tackling, because it looks like it hurts.” His nose wrinkles in distaste, and he can hear Kurt hum in agreement. “But I also dance! Been taking lessons since I was five. Do you dance too?”

Kurt looks pleased with Blaine enthusiasm. Nodding at the question, then offering a nonchalant shrug as he chuckles. “Used to. Ballet mostly. But also self-taught for ballroom.” 

Blaine is mesmerized. Self-taught? He didn’t entirely know what that meant, but it sounded amazing. “Does that mean you like the Nutcracker?” It may have been the only ballet he knew, but he loved it just the same. Ballet fascinated him. He knew he saw guys doing ballet on stage, but he never actually met someone who danced it. Kurt was his new hero. Kurt would be amazing in the Nutcracker he decided.

“I do! Yes. I take it you are also a big fan?” Kurt smiles again, and Blaine almost forget what it’s like to breathe. 

“We see it every year for Christmas. It’s a family tradition. I like how everyone dances on their tiptoes.” He kicks his legs under the blanket some, wiggling his feet to further his point. Kurt laughs again. “We get dressed up. I even wear a lot of hair gel to match daddy and Coop.” He brings his hands up to his head of curls, slightly askew from a case of bed head. Not a regular look for him, but clearly Kurt doesn’t mind. 

“That sounds fancy, Blaine. No wonder you’re so refined.” 

Blaine frowns, head tipping with curiosity. “What’s refined mean?” 

“It means you’re dapper and a gentleman.” 

“Oh. Thank you.” Blaine taps his chin, then points to Kurt. “You’re refined too, Kurt.” 

Kurt shakes his head, but he’s still smiling. Clearly amused. Blaine doesn’t mind. He knows Kurt isn’t laughing at him. Kurt wouldn’t do that. Kurt’s his friend. 

“I like your bow tie.” Blaine comments, changing subjects with a point of his finger. Cooper always did say, if you mean it - point to prove it. 

Reaching up to lightly stroke the article of clothing, Kurt hums his approval. “Thank you. I’m quite fond of it too.” He straightens it, even if Blaine didn’t notice if it was crooked before. 

“I have a collection of them back home!” 

Okay. That was an understatement. A collection may have meant several, in different colors with a few patterns thrown in for fun. But Blaine? His several grew into two full drawers in his dresser. From every shade of color to every pattern imaginable. You never knew what the day would bring and Blaine had to look his best. He was representing the Anderson family name, after all. And Anderson’s were important people in Ohio. He was reminded of it every day. 

It was the ticket item of everyone’s approval. Including Kurt’s it would seem. Blaine is pleased with this. He definitely wants Kurt to approve. 

“Oh, wow. A collection? That definitely sounds refined. Do you have a favorite bow tie that you wear, Blaine?”

Blaine has to think about it. His mind going over every outfit he can remember wearing that got the most response or that he wore more than once. “Yes! It’s blue.” He mimes a bow tie around his neck, grinning wide. “I also have one that has bow ties on it. Bow ties on a bow tie! Isn’t that funny?”

And there’s that angelic laugh, that eases Blaine’s spirit completely and has him grinning wide. Kurt approved. 

“That sounds amazing, Blaine! You’ll have to show me those sometime.” 

Blaine is about to answer when the door opens and his mother peeks inside to wave, catching both of their attention. “We’re back, sweetie. Mommy will be right in after I talk to the doctor, okay?” And then the door closes. 

Kurt gives a soft sigh, turning to Blaine again and dropping his hand from fidgeting with the chain of his scissor brooch. “Well, looks like you’ll be in good hands once again, Sweetheart. So this is where we part ways.” Blaine feels his heart sink. “It was very nice to meet you, Blaine.”

“You’re leaving?” Blaine doesn’t try to hide the fact that he’s disappointed. He loves his mother, but he wanted his mom to meet Kurt too. He wanted her to hear him laugh. See his gorgeous eyes. And see that smile. He made a friend. He didn’t want his friend to leave yet. 

Kurt smiles at him, and Blaine wishes he could be mad at him. But he can’t. He likes that smile too much. “For now.” Kurt sticks his hand out for a handshake this time. Blaine accepts it, getting reminded of just how cold the mans hand was. But manners still mattered, even if it did give you goose pimples and a shiver. “Until we meet again, Blaine.” The handshake breaks, and Blaine doesn’t hide his disappointment that time. He pouts. 

Kurt moves towards the door, almost as if floating it was so elegant, right as it opened again and Blaine’s mother entered at last. She moved right past Kurt as if she didn’t even see him, and invades Blaine’s personal space. Which was odd. She always acknowledged anyone who had been in Blaine’s room before, even with just a smile. 

The last Blaine sees of Kurt is that neatly styled and combed hairstyle before his mother is enveloping him in a tight hug and cuts off vision between him and his friend. “I’m sorry it took us so long, Blainey. I hope you weren’t too lonely. I made sure to leave as soon as the curtain dropped.” Kurt’s gone by the time she pulls away. Blaine misses him already. 

“I was lonely.” Blaine says, point-blank. He can see the guilt inch into his mother’s face, so he presses on “until I made a friend who kept me company. He talked to me. We talked about bow ties, dancing, Cooper.” Blaine hugs Flopsy to his chest, watching as his mother sets her purse down and pulls a chair closer to her sons bed to hold one of his hands. Her hands weren’t cold, and he is able to grip back. 

“Oh?” She asks, inquisitive. Interest piqued. “You made a friend?” She glances around the room, clearly trying to seek this person out. “Where is he?” 

“He left.” He is disappointed, and casts a look towards the door, almost hoping Kurt will magically appear again. He doesn’t. 

“Oh.” His mother also sounds a little disappointed. “I’m sorry that he left. But I’m glad he kept you company. Maybe we can find him before we go home. What’s his name?”

Blaine smiles again. 

“Kurt.”


	2. Cold hands.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine’s back in the hospital, thanks a lot Cooper, and runs into a familiar face. Although this time it goes a little different.

Unfortunately, they never found Kurt the next day before they left the hospital. It hadn’t crossed Blaine’s mind to ask for a last name, as the nurse they asked hadn’t heard of a Kurt. So Blaine returned home, defeated and bummed. Not knowing if he would see his friend again, which was enough to make a six-year-old sulk - for a few days at least. Cooper’s rehearsing for his play in the living room loudly (“I have to get this line perfect! It’s so full of emotion and I want the audience in tears!”) for the next two weeks was enough for a distraction. And a headache.

Which left the only place for Kurt to take up residence was in Blaine’s subconscious mind in dreamland.

It wasn’t every night, but when he did show up, Blaine was notably more chipper the next day. It could’ve been as detailed as talking to him about where he was, what he was doing, and explaining his absence to a simply pretty face in the crowd of the faceless audience while Blaine stressed about his performance all while Cooper’s voice taunted him from somewhere. 

Blaine never forgot that face, that smile, laugh, and especially not those eyes. With the rare occasion that the stars were visible with no light pollution from nearby cities, Kurt was the only thing he thought about. 

Which was where his brain snapped from, what little he could see of the night sky being pushed aside as an ambulance drove up with flashing lights and knocking the boy back to Earth. 

It had been three years since he was last here in this specific hospital. Only this time, he wasn’t the one in the bed. Cooper was. The big dummy having gotten too into a part and broke his pelvis. How? Blaine was too afraid to ask. Nor did he really care. He was sure Cooper would enlighten him either way, whether he wanted to hear it or not. 

The hopes of running into Kurt again in the same hospital did linger in his stomach and then in the back of his mind as they walked the halls to find Cooper’s room, trailing wordlessly behind his mother. Would Kurt even remember him? What if they didn’t recognize each other? Get a grip, Blaine. There was no possible or logical reason why Kurt would still be at the hospital. Any thought and hope was immediately squashed.

“Squirt!” Cooper pipes up when Blaine enters the hospital room, propping himself up more on the bed, eager to see his baby brother it would seem. It’s all Blaine can do to smile at him, amused and exasperated. “Come give your favorite brother a hug!”

“I’m your only brother, Coop.” Blaine points out, but he does as he’s told and rounds the bed to wrap his arms around his older brother as best he can. Trying very hard not to squeeze too tightly. 

“That you are!” Cooper deadpans, suddenly serious as he pulls out of the hug and fixed Blaine with a look that Blaine pinpointed right away that he supposed was to match the tone. He wasn’t buying it. “And I’m sure it pains you to see me like this, broken and out of sorts. But I can assure you, a little break in my bone structure won’t keep me down. And don’t let it keep you down either. Be strong, Blaine. Don’t think of your brother in pain, but as a hero who took one for the team.” He grasps his younger brother by the arms, fixing him with a look. “Can you do that for me?”

Blaine struggles to refrain from rolling his eyes. Instead, he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth with a slow nod in return. “I certainly will try!” Cooper looks so relieved and seemingly proud, as he pulls Blaine back in, this time almost smothering him in the process.

“Blaine, honey, your granny Lil’ is here.” Blaine’s mother peeks her head in through the door, and Blaine is able to wriggle free from Cooper. Finally. His savior. He loves his grandmother. He hadn’t seen her since Christmas a year ago last. She always gave the best presents, and seemed to favor him over Cooper - which was why she was his favorite relative. 

Abandoning his brother's side quickly, much to Cooper’s offense and he audibly gives a huff of annoyance that his brother wasn’t offering him the pity as he was hoping for. But Blaine couldn’t find it in himself to care either. 

“There’s my Blainey!” Granny Lil’ coos as Blaine exits the hospital room and runs right into her for a hug. He could let his dad and mom give Cooper the sympathy for a bit. “My, you’ve grown so much. I hardly recognized you.” 

Beaming, he releases the older woman and smoothed down his polo shirt and bow tie - it was purple, matching the purple suspenders he wore over the black polo shirt while holding up the gray twill pants. The pop of black casual boot with purple laces just brought the outfit together, in his opinion as he had picked it out himself. Purple just being his grandmothers favorite color, which was now working in his favor.

“Thanks, I’ve been eating a lot of vegetables lately. Apparently they’re suppose to help?” He gives an exaggerated shrug that makes his granny laugh in good humor, squeezing his shoulders and pressing a kiss to his gelled head of hair. 

“Oh, Blainey, never change.” Pinching his cheek right as his mother pokes her head out of the room to hiss at her mother to say hello to Cooper before his pain meds knocked him out. Blaine sags, clearly knowing she’s here to see Cooper and give him sympathy and attention over him for a change. Sympathy that he’s an idiot his inner voice reminds him. He can hear her berate Cooper for thinking he could attach the harness himself, immediately feeling better about being left in the hall with his mother. He’ll be back in her sights soon enough. 

“Mom, can I get some food at the canteen?” He asks, pulling at the sleeve of his mother’s sweater to catch her attention from tapping her thumbs over her phone screen. Work e-mails he assumed. Even better when trying to weasel some cash out of her, she was clearly distracted.

She nods at least, indicating the phone as if Blaine can’t see it. He sees it. He also feels his stomach growl up at him in agreement, eagerly accepting the twenty she fishes out of her handbag to give to him. Jackpot. 

Following the signs and asking a nice nurse behind reception in the waiting room got him to the cafeteria in no time. It wasn’t an overly complicated hospital, and now that he was ten it wasn’t that hard to follow some simple directions. The twenty his mom gave him supplied a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a fruit cup, a chocolate milk, and even a pudding cup which he carries on a tray to the farthest table from the canteen out-of-the-way as a janitor was starting to wipe down tables. Blaine didn’t want to bother anyone by getting in the way and making that mans life more difficult by adding more mess to clean up. 

Looking out over an open space with large windows, another waiting area, he people watches while eating his sandwich. There’s a few doctors and nurses who walk through the waiting room, collecting some people as they go, and sometimes just traveling to get food themselves. It thins out to a couple of stragglers after a few minutes as he finishes one half of his sandwich and switches to the fruit cup. How this food tasted so bland and unappetizing when one was a patient compared to more satisfying when you were just a visitor made no sense to him. He remembered their sandwiches being mostly bread over the peanut butter and jelly and it was awfully chewy. But this? This wasn’t so bad. It was hitting just the right spot, and he’s picking up the second slice to devour when he brings his attention back to the waiting area. 

And then he sees him. 

Coiffed hair. Dark vest. Red bow tie. Blaine can’t believe it - he could never forget that face. That red bow tie. Could it be? He has to squeeze his eyes shut, shaking himself, and slowly opens his eyes again. He’s still there. Kurt. It was Kurt! The friend he made when he had been in here at the age of six with the stomach flu. The gentle, kind soul who kept him company when he needed someone most to distract him. He was here! He hasn’t changed a bit. And best of all, he’s smiling - Blaine missed that smile. Even if it wasn’t for him this time. It was for the little girl hugging her teddy bear in a wheelchair that a nurse had wheeled in and then abandoned to fetch something, or someone, from behind the desk. 

So taken aback by the sight of that it takes him a moment to realize; Kurt literally hadn’t changed a bit. At all. The hair was the same style. The clothes were down to the T of how they looked three years ago. That was odd. Did Kurt not own other clothes? Did he like this outfit that much that he would wear it three years later? It was like being shot back in time and he had to pinch himself. Very much awake. This was very much real. 

He was staring. Openly. Stupidly. Sandwich still in his mouth, half-chewed, when the girl is wheeled away by her nurse, Kurt watches her go. Blaine watches his smile drop when she’s out of sight. It’s almost like slow motion that he turns and meets Blaine’s gaze with his own. Crap! Of all the times to look, well, less refined? It was now. Pull it together, Blaine. He remembers to shut his mouth finally at the very least and swallow. 

Kurt looks just as pleasantly surprised, and even glances around himself, possibly wondering if Blaine was looking at him and not anyone else. But there was no one else in the area now. Just Kurt. 

Remembering his manners, he waves tentatively to confirm that yes, he definitely had looked at him and no one else. He knew he wasn’t making Kurt up! Kurt hadn’t been a dream. There he was in the flesh! And walking right towards him. It was still so flawless how he carries himself, and Blaine doesn’t care if staring is rude at this point - how is Kurt walking so effortlessly? Like every step he wasn’t even hitting the floor? It was soundless even, and while in the moment Blaine thought it was weird, it flew out of his head when Kurt stopped next to his table. 

“Well, Blaine was it? We meet again.” Kurt greets, and oh Blaine forgot how musical his voice was. And those eyes were still bright as ever, capturing his attention fully. “I see you didn’t bring Flopsy with you this time. I hope he’s doing well.”

Blaine grins, kicking his legs under his chair with ill-concealed joy. Kurt remembered his name. Kurt remembered his beloved stuffed rabbit, who was collecting dust at the top of a bookshelf now but even so. Kurt remembered him too. 

“He is back home, snug and safe on my bookshelf. So I guess you could say he’s doing well in that regard!” Blaine offers up, wiping his hands on a napkin. “My brother broke his pelvis in a stage incident. I’m visiting him. Got hungry.” He can’t take his eyes off this man. Afraid if he looks away, he’ll disappear. He held back the urge to pinch himself again. “But hi! I wasn’t expecting to see you here. Kurt.” That name tasted foreign, yet sweet on his tongue. It was real. Kurt was real. 

Kurt laughs. Oh, how Blaine remembers adoring that sound. With good reason. It was still angelic as always. 

“I can say the same for you, Blaine. Though I must also say, very relieved that you aren’t the one in need of visiting.” Kurt is smiling at him. Blaine is forgetting that he needs air in his lungs. “I see you’re wearing a bow tie this time too, though. I like it.” It brings Blaine to inhale, glancing down at his outfit and feels at the item in question tied neatly around his neck. That’s right. Kurt had wanted to see his collection sometime. 

“Thank you. Purple is my grandma’s favorite color and she’s here visiting Coop.” 

“Oh, a smart move on your behalf, it looks really sharp.” Kurt gave an approving nod and a thumbs up. “And a good color choice. Can’t go wrong with purple, you know. So she’s got excellent taste.” 

“She does! I like to think she taught me all I know about colors and matching.” He pats over the suspenders, and points to his shoes. Needing to show off that it wasn’t the only purple thing about him, wanting to show off for Kurt.

Kurt again nods, again agreeing with Blaine, and even humoring him with an impressed oooo-ing sound. “Those are very snazzy laces. You are definitely put together, aren’t you? I'm already impressed. I can say honestly, I haven’t seen anyone as well dressed as you are at your age.” 

Blaine inwardly scoffs haughtily. Allowing the ego stroke to carry him for a while, puffing his chest as he lifts his chin in pride. “Well, you know, I am known as refined, according to someone.” He gives a cheeky grin, hoping Kurt will catch the word of choice. 

“You haven’t changed then.” Kurt offers a wink, then chuckles to himself. Blaine doesn’t care if he’s staring now. Kurt is so fascinating to him, and he’s hanging on every word out of the mans mouth. 

Manners, Blaine.

“You wanna sit?” Directing his hands to the other seat at the table, hoping that using the wide-eyed puppy look will make Kurt cave. Please. I want to talk to you again. This isn’t a dream. This is real. You’re real. I didn’t make you up. 

Kurt takes a moment, pausing in his good humor to consider the question. He opens his mouth, as if wanting to say something, but closes it again as he takes in their surroundings. The canteen workers are still there, and a few nurses on the opposite side of the dining area, but otherwise it’s just them. Blaine didn’t know what Kurt would be looking for, or why, but soon enough his friend is nodding and carefully sliding out a chair opposite Blaine and sitting. It was a slow movement, almost cautious. As if the action in itself was a chore. 

Overhead a light flickers momentarily but then all goes still again. 

Kurt takes a breath of air, sounding relieved. “Such a gentleman,” he adds, grinning at Blaine once more, “how does the food compare to the last time you were here?” 

Blaine looks down at his half eaten sandwich, kicking his legs under his chair again. “Better. Last time it was really dry. A lot of chewing.” He picks at the sandwich, lifting the top layer of bread to show the contents of peanut butter and jelly practically caked on. “This one is a lot better.” 

“That’s good to hear. Most of the time, they just serve leftovers they didn’t sell the previous day. Looks like you got something fresh!” 

“Freshly made sandwiches are always more good.” Blaine gently urges the tray to the side so he can fold his arms on the table, leaning closer towards Kurt’s side of the table best as he can. “You know what else is good? Pizza.”

“The pizza here is a popular item!” Kurt says, taking a moment to glance over at the canteen as he talks. “It goes faster than anything else, I know. But clearly you made the right alternative as you approve of their sandwich making skills.” His gaze is back on Blaine’s and Blaine let’s himself smile. 

“It’s not as good as my mom’s sandwiches that she makes me for school, but I agree. Good alternative.” 

“There’s just something special about a parent making you your food that hits different, doesn’t it? Does your mom do majority of the cooking in your house?”

“We actually have our own cook who does a lot of the cooking. But when my mom does cook, it’s always really good. I like it best. She always packs my school lunches too.” 

“A cook who does the cooking for you?” Kurt looks impressed, maybe a twinge of something else that Blaine can’t figure out, arms folding comfortably across his chest. “That sounds super fancy.” 

Blaine shrugs, unsure why that was so fancy. Didn’t everyone have a cook who did majority of the cooking? It just seemed logical to him. A cook came with food preparation if you wanted it done right. It wasn’t like he rode everywhere in a limo - now THAT was fancy.

“Who makes your sandwiches, Kurt?” 

Kurt is still, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to think. Blaine didn’t think it was that hard of a question. 

“I made my own sandwiches. Sometimes I even made my dad sack lunches for work, because he was hopeless in choosing his own food.” Kurt shakes his head, eyes a little misty even though he’s still smiling fondly as he speaks. Though it falls as he presses on. “Even landed him in the ER with a heart attack, and then I had to double down on making sure he ate better.” 

Heart attack. Blaine didn’t understand the meaning entirely, but he knew it wasn’t good. He wanted to reach out and touch Kurt. Offer his sympathy. He hadn’t seen those eyes filled with so much emotion before, and he was both transfixed by the sight as it really made those eyes shine. But he also was feeling upset with himself. Somehow this was his fault. He never wanted Kurt upset, especially if it was being upset over something he did intentionally. If his friends hands were on the table, he would’ve reached out to take it - but they still remain against his folded arms. 

“I’m sorry.” Blaine says meekly, stretching his hands closer to Kurt on the table but never actually touching him. “That sounds super scary.” 

Kurt’s smile is wavering. “It was. But he’s okay now. He’s healthier than ever.” 

Blaine hopes his own smile can show support. Relief at knowing Kurt hadn’t lost his father to a heart attack. “How about your mom?” 

Kurt is silent again for a long while, staring past Blaine now. Seemingly at the wall as there was nothing behind him that he knew of. “My mom died when I was eight.” 

Blaine frowns this time. Not saying anything as he can tell Kurt isn’t done with his thought, it was just taking a moment to process inside his head. He sees Cooper doing the same thing when trying to remember things. 

“She was the one who taught me how to cook and bake up until that point in my life. And after she left my dad and I, I took it upon myself to do most of it. As my dad almost burned the house down a time or two.” At that he smiles again, ducking his head down as if to hide it. Almost like it was embarrassing, smiling at that. But Blaine still mirrors it, best as he can. 

“I’m sorry that you lost your mom.” Blaine voices. “She sounds like she was a good mom to you. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost my mom.” 

Kurt gives him a grateful look, and finally closes the distance they were keeping by reaching out to cover Blaine’s hand with his own. Blaine shivers. The memory of just how freezing the mans hands were all coming back to him at once. How was his hands still so cold? 

Goosebumps scatter along his arms, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling, but Blaine doesn’t pull his hand away. It was such an odd sensation. Was Kurt’s hand even touching him? He couldn’t tell. It was so cold. He could see Kurt touching him. But there seemed that something was missing in the mix. Experimentally he flexed his fingers, as if he could curl his smaller fingers around the longer and delicate ones, but there was no barrier. His fingers poked out the back of Kurt’s hand. 

Hiding the audible gasp, feeling his eyes widening as he tries to make sense of what he was experiencing. This wasn’t normal, he knew that much. Kurt looked so real and flesh-like, that he could swear his mind was playing tricks on him. Perhaps the sterile lemon floor-cleaner was getting to him. Kurt quickly retracts his hand and hides it under the table and out of sight. Warmth returns to Blaine’s hands, and he pulls back as well.

Even if he wasn’t shivering anymore, he wishes Kurt wouldn’t have pulled away like that. A million questions ran through his head, processing and making sense of it best as his ten-year-old brain could. He wants to ask. But stops himself. That would be rude, right? Maybe Kurt couldn’t handle it. Maybe it was some Sci-Fi technology he wasn’t allowed to talk about just yet. 

“Woah. That was crazy.” He breathes out, meeting Kurt’s gaze, a quirk in his mouth. “You’re like a hologram.” Those stark blue eyes are staring right into his soul, and another involuntary shiver runs up his spine. Was Kurt not as solid as he was before? He could swear he could see the wall behind Kurt’s head. 

“Blaine.” 

“Are you an angel?”

Kurt’s mouth is frozen, open as if he’s about to say something more but Blaine had cut him off. He blinks, thrown off by the question, and any trace of being uncomfortable? Unsure? Whatever it was that skated over the pale face, replaced by something else. Flattery perhaps. He closes his mouth at least, giving a little sound in his throat that almost sounded like a laugh. Almost. 

“No, Sweetheart. I’m far from an angel.” Kurt shakes his head. “But I’m also not part of the living like you. Anymore.” 

Blaine sits back in his chair, moving his hands into his lap, and stilling his swinging legs beneath his chair. Anymore? Was Kurt a vampire? It would explain how pale he was. Blaine may have seen one Twilight movie because Cooper’s girlfriend insisted and he had gotten pulled in since it was something to watch. Did this mean Kurt was going to turn against him and drink his blood? He absent-mindedly reaches up to feel at his neck, rubbing at it as the thought crosses his mind. 

Slouching to make himself as small as possible, Blaine twists his hands in his lap. Nervous now. “You’re not a vampire are you? Are you going to bite me?” 

Kurt is again thrown off. And this time he laughs at the question, loudly. There’s no echo, but it still relaxes Blaine from his stiff posture in his chair enough to give a nervous smile back. 

“No! No, no, no. I’m not a vampire, Blaine. I promise.”

Blaine let’s out a relieved sigh, shoulders slouching completely. This was better. Kurt laughing was a better sight than the latter. 

“I’m a ghost.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got the second chapter up! This one is just a smidge longer than the first chapter, and the following one may be shorter as a result. Fingers crossed I get them out in a timely manner. 
> 
> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments from the first chapter. I hope I’m doing all right! Haven’t written fic in years, and had to have a go at it again. So really, your feedback is always welcome and appreciated. xoxo
> 
> Preface, that even if Kurt remains a ghost for the entire story does not mean that our guys won’t be happy by the end of the series. (; I promise <3


	3. Illusion Shattered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine can’t seem to get rid of Kurt, even in his dreams. Not that he wants to.

“I’m a ghost.”

The words are still ringing in his ears. It was a lot to process for a ten year-old to take in. He didn’t even know if he heard Kurt correctly, immediately starting to second guess everything. 

Ghosts didn’t appear solid. You couldn’t have an outright conversation with one, he knew that much (or at least thought he did). Cooper liked watching those ghost hunting shows on TV, and those ghosts never came out and spoke to a person like this. The proof they gathered was usually the bare minimum that could be brushed off as a speck of dust or insects. They never appeared solid. They were the supposed souls of people trapped after they died. And Kurt? Kurt couldn’t be...no. He couldn’t think about that. Kurt couldn’t be a ghost. Kurt wasn’t dead. He was sure of it.

“No you’re not.” Blaine gives a scoff, shaking his head in denial. “You’re very much here and alive.” 

“Blaine...” Kurt reaches out, pressing his hand right through Blaine’s chest. It was cold and very much not solid. 

It was true. Kurt was a ghost. 

Now his brow line dropped to a frown, going over this new information. It was almost as if a million questions flooded into his head all at once, making it hard to bite his tongue and keep them to himself. He knew it could come across as rude to pry. It wasn’t his business. But at the same time; He needed to know. He needed to know why Kurt was a ghost. Self-control was out the window still at his age. He could blame it on that later. 

Sitting up straighter in his chair, he meets those eyes once more. “So you’re dead? Ghosts are dead people, right?” 

“That’s correct, yes.” 

“How did you die?” 

There’s another long pause, Kurt appearing as if he’s contemplating answering the question or not. Blaine doesn’t back down from his curiosity though, as the other doesn’t appear upset by the question. That’s in his favor. Blaine’s imagination was getting away from him again, however, and he could only picture Kurt dying in a brave and heroic way. Maybe he was saving someone from a burning building, or maybe someone was attempting to poison someone else and he took the poison because he was so selfless. Maybe it was a tragic love story, with Kurt being the knight in shining armor who saved the day. 

“Someone took my life from me, out of fear.” Kurt is calm, nonchalant, breaking Blaine’s attempt to make light of the situation in his own head. Still meeting Blaine’s gaze with his own, and Blaine is helpless against it. “Let’s leave it at that for now though, okay?” 

No, it wasn’t okay. He just learned his hospital friend was a ghost, a dead ghost. He wants to ask why. He wants to know more. He was old enough, he was mature for his age and could handle the truth. He was full of concern, sadness, but still so many questions. Only the inner people pleaser reminded him that manners always won out, it was the right thing to do by taking Kurt’s wishes into consideration. The stubborn flame dies at last, as Blaine relents with a nod. “Yeah, okay. I’m sorry if I crossed a line, Kurt. I promise I don’t care that you’re a ghost.” He hopes the smile he throws is convincing enough. 

“Thank you, Blaine.” Kurt’s smile is still as bright as ever, capturing Blaine in it and making his heart sing. “I have to go now. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.” 

So much for the singing. 

“Wait, Kurt—“ But the man in front of him fades from view entirely, and all Blaine can do is stare at the chair Kurt had sat in. 

Rats. He had just unlocked a new chapter in this mysterious Kurt man’s story, and just like that it shut on him again. He still never caught a last name. 

After that, Kurt was only an illusion. A memory trapped inside Blaine’s head. Anytime he spoke of the man, it was usually brushed off as an imaginary friend Blaine had made up. But it didn’t stop the dreams. A recurring one, continuing to ironically haunt Blaine almost every night.

Blaine was back in the cafeteria at the hospital. All was quiet, not a person in sight. No doctors or nurses, no one visiting, not even a janitor - he was alone. He’s made to believe that it’s night time, as the only light shining is from inside the building itself. Usually lighting a path for Blaine to follow.

He would then walk down one of the corridors, the only one seemingly inviting and enticing enough to push through after passing the double hospital doors. It always appeared never-ending. Just passing room after room, all the doors closed, and locked at either side leaving Blaine no choice but to continue to follow the warmth of the unknown glow ahead. 

“Hello?” 

No response. 

“Anyone here with me?” 

Still no response. 

No one ever responded. Only his voice echoing back at him. Sometimes he wouldn’t even call out, knowing no one was there to respond. 

He would start to feel uneasy by this point, picking up speed in his walking. He had to catch up with this strange beacon, always just out of reach but still illuminating the way. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. He needed to catch it. Whatever it was.

“Please! Don’t go!” He calls towards it. “I need you!”

It’s here that the glowing light stops moving and comes to a halt, and Blaine is able to get closer, practically running now. He’s so close. The fear begins to dissipate as he draws near to it. So close. Upon closer inspection, he can make out a figure in the light. Almost as if the warmth is pouring out of this figure's body, making the figure itself glow. Inviting Blaine closer, giving no allusion to being anything but safety from the darkness.

It’s Kurt.

He turns to face Blaine slowly, and Blaine fills with a sense of relief. He isn’t alone anymore. Kurt is there, smiling at him, and god - those eyes that hold the galaxy are staring right into his soul. As Blaine stops walking finally, the glowing source softens but never goes away entirely. Blaine can always feel the warmth of the other against his skin, even if they were still a few feet apart. 

“Blaine?” 

“It’s me.” 

Kurt’s hand reaches for him, and Blaine extends his own. He can never think to close the distance just a few more feet to make it easier on himself. Their hands are so close to touching but never do. Blaine struggles. There’s another feeling that takes over then, an inkling that Blaine has to grab Kurt’s hand if he wants to advance any further and escape the hospital. And he tries. 

“Just a little further!” Blaine calls, and he can see Kurt smiling at him. 

Then there’s always a shout from somewhere. He can never tell where. Behind him? Beside him? From one of the closed rooms? Is he the one yelling? It’s the signal that something is here to break them apart, though Kurt is still smiling at him, but now those eyes are full of tears. Blaine feels his chest start to hurt. No, no, no, Kurt couldn’t leave him. Kurt was his friend. He didn’t want to be alone. It was panic rising in his chest now. Tightening around his lungs, making him gasp, furthering his struggle to grasp at his friend's hand. But still, he could never do it. So close, yet so far.

“Don’t leave me!” Blaine hears himself say, as the light diminishes. Kurt then gets sucked backwards into a dark abyss and out of reach. He can hear Kurt calling his name. Pleading for Blaine to help. Please, Blaine, please. 

It’s then that he wakes up. 

And it didn’t stop. Over and over this dream would come to him every night, and every night he would bolt himself awake in a cold-sweat. The first time it happened he had sobbed to himself in his bed, fearing that Kurt needed his help and he didn’t know if it was too late. It felt so real. But after the first six months, Blaine knew better than to expect his parents, or anyone, to help him do the helping. 

It was just a dream. A night terror. Nothing more. 

Of course he went to a few specialists after his mother became concerned, however, having woken up to his yelling and sobbing one too many times. Blaine always would brush it off, claiming it was just a message from the beyond. His mother still forced Blaine to go. It didn’t make the dreams stop entirely, but at least it wasn’t every night. It left Blaine bittersweet as he enjoyed seeing Kurt. Even in a dream, Kurt’s eyes remained his favorite thing to find himself lost in. But he could still do without the terror that overcame him every time the ghost was taken from him and left him alone. 

He is thirteen when he found himself back in the hospital. An injury to his head while playing soccer at school would lead his overly paranoid mother rushing him to the emergency room at the sight of a little blood, and with the doctors advising that they keep him overnight if there might be a concussion; here he was. Being poked and prodded with needles.

There is an upside this time however, compared to his last visit: His doctor. Besides being good at his job, funny, and not at all condescending towards Blaine in any way, just so happened to have an attractiveness to him that fascinated the teen. With a chiseled jaw and a winning smile that has Blaine’s full attention, he had his new patient wrapped around his finger. He doesn’t remember getting any attraction towards his doctors in years past, but this go round? Blaine was positively captivated, and not complaining. 

“Your chart looks good here, Blaine.” The doctor is saying while writing on his clipboard. Clearly oblivious to his patient hanging on every word, wide-eyed innocence clear as day to anyone. Those dark stormy eyes were to die for, in Blaine’s opinion. They really stood out, even for such a common color. “I’ll leave you to rest for the night and be sure to check on you in the morning before we discharge you.” A smile flashes at him (what even is breathing anyway?) and he is leaving Blaine with his mother, whom Blaine even forgot was there in the small hospital room with him. Her coming up to fluff the pillows startles him back down to Earth, his heart jumping from riding roller coasters in his stomach and up into his throat instead. He forces himself to swallow it down, and take a breath.

“Mom,” Blaine almost whines, playing nonchalance though his heart beat had quickened inside his rib cage. He was thirteen. Getting scared was for babies. “Can you not do that? I’m fine, I promise.”

“Just needing to keep you comfortable, Blainey.” she replies, not at all undeterred by her youngest looking as threatening as a newborn puppy with that frown of his. How he hates that nickname.

“Mom, please don’t call me that. I’m not six.” 

His mother kisses his cheek with a smile. He wishes he could keep his teenage angst burning over it to make a point, but he feels himself losing that battle for now. He loves his mother too much to stay irritated with her. It may only be a matter of time before he has to hear that nickname being used against him by someone else. If not his mother, than another relative. He had kicked Cooper in the shin last time he called him that, maybe a little over a year ago now. Despite getting reprimanded for it, but it was worth it. Until Cooper said it helped him get a job as an extra on Law and Order with a leg cast. Then Blaine wished he had kicked higher. 

“I’m going to get us some food before they close the cafeteria. Do you want anything?” 

“I could really go for something sweet, if you don’t mind.” 

“Should really take it easy on the sweets, honey. It’s just empty calories.” 

‘Then why even ask?’ His inner voice hisses, irritation flame still burning in the back of his throat. He was a growing boy. He needed the empty calories. “Please? My head really hurts. What if this is my last meal?” It’s a weak case. An over dramatic case. And he sees his mother give him a look, exasperation clear. His pout seals the deal because she’s rolling her eyes. He won this round. 

“Don’t be a drama queen.” She kisses his cheek again. “I’ll be back shortly.” And then she’s collecting her purse and she leaves. 

The room falls silent once the door clicks shut behind her and Blaine is searching for the TV remote. There had to be something good on in the middle of the day, right? Anything was better than listening to shuffling of nurses and wheeling of patients out in the hall. 

“I promise nothing good is on at this hour.” 

Blaine clutches at his blankets. He knows that voice even before he finds the speaker, standing just beside the door. Blaine is about to question how he hadn’t heard him come in, but the answer supplies itself in his subconscious.

“Hi there, stranger.” Blaine greets. Kurt in person is always better than a night terror. There is no illuminating glow about him physically, even if Blaine is always starstruck by those eyes even still. 

Kurt smiles at him, and Blaine eases back into his fluffed pillow. 

“Back in here again, huh?” The ghost man walks, or really floats, towards the bed and stops at the foot of it. 

“I’m apparently a klutz.” Blaine shrugs. “If you met my brother Cooper, you’d know it’s in the genes.” Oh how Blaine missed that laugh. 

“It’s always a pleasure to see you, Blaine. Even if I'm concerned about the amount of hair gel you keep applying to your head. Do you ever let your hair breathe?” 

A little self-conscious now, Blaine’s hands go up to his head. He doesn’t think it looks bad. After he got made fun of for his unruly curls by some neighborhood boys, and then again at school, this was the only way to keep it tame. He didn’t need to get his curls caught in another thicket bush, or appear as his brother so lovingly put it - a drown rat after he takes a bath. 

“I think I look refined.” Blaine grunts, making a point to let Kurt know he's offended by that comment. Kurt ducks his head, a smile still on his lips. 

“You do.” 

Blaine lowers his hands, about to comment on Kurt’s hair. It’s always styled and he wants to know how Kurt manages, or managed, that. A male nurse enters, cutting off the question, and Blaine tears his attention away from Kurt. 

“Hi there, just here to draw some blood from you real quick, Blaine.” 

Blaine feels his face heat up. This nurse is also easy on the eyes. A nice mustache and goatee really highlighting his masculine physique. He’s not even listening really, just obediently sticks out his arm for the nurse to wrap that blue elastic band around. He does notice Kurt doesn’t move, seemingly watching Blaine with concealed amusement. 

“I really like your hair,” the male nurse is saying, clearly wanting to keep Blaine distracted from the discomfort. “It isn’t often that we get young men who take care in making their hair look nice. Were you at a recital or something?” 

Puffing his chest, he gives Kurt a haughty look as he sits up straighter. He impressed the nurse at least. Take that, Kurt. 

“No. I just wear it like this to keep it out of my face. Easier to manage, and stuff.” 

“Very dapper of you. I am sure the ladies will love that.” The male nurse smiles, and while it isn’t Kurt’s, it still makes Blaine’s own face warm more. “I can understand that though. See my hair?” He directs Blaine’s attention to his buzz cut. “I got sick of maintaining it, and just cut it all off. I should’ve thought to gel it and comb it, maybe then I’d look better, huh?”

“I think you look just fine as you are.” 

The male nurse smiles at him again. Blaine doesn’t feel the needle, he’s on cloud nine. 

“And you’re all done. High five!” The nurse places tape and a cotton ball on Blaine’s hand. Blaine gives him that high-five enthusiastically. 

And then the nurse is gone. He and Kurt are left by themselves. 

“That was cute.” Kurt hums. “He’s very good with his patients.” 

Blaine sighs dreamily, not caring if he sounds a little ridiculous in doing it. “Yes he is. It’s refreshing. Most doctors and nurses talk down to me.” 

“Tell me about it.” There’s a pause and then. “Do you impress the ladies with your hair, Blaine?” 

Blaine tries not to squirm in his bed. Did he? He didn’t think about it. Did he care if he impressed anyone? 

“I don’t know. I think I impress my mom. Does that count?” 

Kurt tilts his head, glancing towards the door with his eyes. “It impressed him.” 

Blaine can only nod. It did, didn’t it. He feels a little better at that, as he examines his hand. “Because he has good taste.” 

“Oh, implying that I don’t have good taste?” 

Kurt’s tone is teasing, and Blaine is sticking his tongue out at him. They share a laugh that time, and it feels nice. Natural. He missed Kurt’s company, no matter how brief it was. He missed his eyes, his laugh, he smile, his voice. 

“Kurt, can I ask you something?” 

The ghost floats over to the side of Blaine’s bed where the nurse had been, granting the teen permission with a gentle wave of his hands before he’s folding his arms. 

“Is it normal to find your doctor attractive?” Once it was out, Blaine feels embarrassed. Suddenly wondering why he bothered to ask that of all things. “You know what, never mind. That’s a stupid question.” 

“No, no it isn’t a stupid question, Blaine.” Kurt reassured, even if Blaine is avoiding eye contact now. “Getting a crush on your doctor is perfectly normal. I know my first crush was on my dentist.” 

Blaine’s nose crinkled in distaste. “My dentist scares me still.” 

“I was scared of the dentist until I was about nine.” Kurt gives a sigh, clearly not caring about Blaine’s disapproval. “I got a new one because my old one retired. But the moment I saw the new guy, I was hooked. Fear? Gone. Perfect smile, and really engaging. I wanted to impress him so I really took care of my teeth just so he’d compliment me every time I went in. He moved after a year to Columbus, and it was right back to hating the dentist.” 

Blaine is silent for a while, Kurt seemingly lost in his memory. “You were attracted to a guy?” 

Not bothered by the question, Kurt nods. “Yes. A guy.” 

“So you’re gay.” 

It isn’t a question. 

“I’m gay.”

A warmth fills Blaine’s heart, and he doesn’t know why his eyes suddenly sting. Blinking unshed tears away, the teen looks away. Kurt doesn’t say anything else, and Blaine is so grateful to him for it. 

“Me too.” 

There. It was out. Someone knew. Kurt wouldn’t tell anyone. 

It weighed on Blaine’s shoulders for a while. Knowing he wasn’t like Cooper. Like his dad. Like the boys down the road. The boys at school. He may have enjoyed the things guys his age liked, such as sports and video games. But he also knew he was less interested in crushing on the girls in his class, talking about reproductive bodies changing, and giggling about who was wearing a bra already. He was more interested in his friend Jeremy. His doctor. The wrestlers on television. And of course...

Kurt is letting him have his moment in the stillness between them. Blaine knows he hasn’t left. He may be a ghost, but he’s still a strong rock, supporting him in his time. 

“You’re the first person I’ve told.” Blaine clears the air again, wiping at his face with a hand, turning back to his friend. “I didn’t know if I’d ever be brave enough to do that.” 

“You’re a lot stronger than you think you are. Don’t sell yourself short, Blaine. I’m proud of you for trusting me with that.” 

“You’re my friend. Of course I trust you.” 

Kurt smiles. Blaine wishes he could hug him. 

“There’s never any pressure or time limit on coming out, you know. You can take all the time you need. And I won’t tell anyone.” 

Right. Blaine will have to come out sooner or later. He had to be honest and up front with his mom, Cooper, and of course his dad. His momentary blanket of relief is stripped away again. 

“Kurt?” Blaine chews on his bottom lip. “Did you come out to your dad?” 

“I—“ 

The door opens, Blaine’s mother coming in with two contained sandwiches, a piece of cake, and a can of a lemon-lime soda. Kurt doesn’t vanish, but he does move away from Blaine quickly. 

“Last slice!” She is saying, placing the container down on the bedside table. “It’s vanilla with cream cheese frosting, so go easy on it. I also got you a sandwich, darling. Eat this before you eat your cake, please.” 

Blaine gives the best apologetic look he can towards Kurt who is now hovering against the wall, watching the interaction between mother and son. 

“Thanks, mom.” He and Kurt share a look. “Mom?” 

“Yes, sweetie?” 

Blaine is chewing on his bottom lip, finally glancing away from the ghost to his mother once more as she prepares his sandwich on a plate. 

Deep breath. He could do this. Kurt was there. He wasn’t alone. He had support. Even if he was a ghost, it still counted. 

“I’m gay.” 

There. He did it. Twice. Kurt throws him a thumbs up, smile as brilliant as ever. 

His mother however is still. No smile. But no disapproving look either. He would know, he had seen it thrown around a lot, not towards him per se but even so. 

It seems like time slows, because his mother takes her time in responding to him. When she does, it’s not what Blaine was expecting. 

“Would you like mustard on your sandwich, Blaine?” 

He deflated. Unsure if this was an acceptance or a dismissal to the topic. 

“Mom, did you hear me?” 

“Of course I heard you, Blaine. I’m not deaf.” 

“Do you still love me?” 

His mother sighs, almost sounding sad. “Of course I do, Blainey.” He cringes. “I will always love you. Gay, straight, or anything else. I just think now is not the time or place to discuss such matters. You just focus on getting better. We can discuss it more at home with your father, okay?” 

It was a dismissal. Blaine looks to Kurt who is still floating at the foot of his bed, arms crossed and lips pursed. Seemingly disappointed in the response. But what could he do about it? His mother couldn’t see him. 

“Eat, Blaine.” 

He’s not hungry. He just ends up staring at the plate in front of him, picking at the crust with no intention of eating it. 

“You should eat.” Kurt finally speaks up again, proceeding over to the other side of Blaine’s bed. “And I should go.” 

“Please don’t.” 

“Please don’t what, sweetie?” His mother asks, and Blaine bites his lip. Right. He can’t talk to Kurt with her in the room. She might think he was crazy. Kurt was a figment of his imagination. 

“I have others to check on in the hospital, Blaine.” Kurt adds, placing a cold hand over Blaine’s. Blaine forgot how cold Kurt’s touch actually was. How could he forget something so chilling? “I’m still very proud of you. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon, okay?” 

Blaine meets Kurt’s eyes. He can’t say anything more. That enchanting gaze stays with him until Kurt is slipping back through the wall and leaving the teen with his mom yet again. 

“Blaine?” 

“Nothing, mom. Sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is going better for everyone else than it is for Blaine! Fair warning the next chapter will include heavy subject matter, so beware the tags.


	4. Chapter four.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sadie Hawkins dance leaves its scar on Blaine’s life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very heavy chapter. PLEASE keep the tags listed in mind before reading! There is brief mention of the Karofsky assault, and hints of how it escalated. No major details, Kurt keeps it vague on purpose, but even so.

_“Blaine? Blaine can you hear me? Oh, my god—SOMEBODY HELP!”_

_Loud voices are echoing all around him. He can’t move. Lungs strain for air; everything hurts. What was going on? Everything was chaos. Shouting. Jerked movements. Agony. Then, nothing._

_Silence._

_Floating in darkness; alone. A burst of light. He touches solid ground. Kurt’s there, hands outstretched towards him. No longer alone. Relief. He reaches for the hand, fingers brushing. Touching Kurt; at last. Grasping their hands together. Never letting go._

_“Kurt? Kurt, what’s going on? I’m scared.” Blaine’s own voice shakes, uncertain. This was the first time they got to touch._

_Kurt smiles at him but says nothing. Only holding his hands._

_An electric shock courses through his body. Burning him from the inside out. Blaine shouts. It hurts. Everything hurts. Why does everything hurt?_

_“Kurt! Make it stop. It hurts.” He cries out, grasping at his friend's hand tighter. The light is fading. No, no, no._

_Another shock courses through him._

_Kurt’s hands slip from his as he’s pulled back into the dark abyss. The light goes out. An empty yell._

_“KURT!”_

_All is still._

Blaine opens his eyes. Disoriented vision of white walls, fluorescent lights, and his mother sitting in a stiff chair watching him comes into focus. A strong smell of lemon cleaner hits his senses as he takes a conscious inhale, burning his insides. He can’t help a groan of discomfort.

“Oh thank god, you’re awake.” His mother’s breathy voice is moving closer, taking his hand in hers. Her face tear streaked, eyes red, and puffy. 

Of course he was awake. Why wouldn’t he be? Did something happen? 

“Mom?” He can’t hear his own voice. His throat felt scratched apart. His mother shushes him, gently placing her fingers over his lips. He flinched away, wondering why his mouth hurt. They felt chapped. Split. Bruised and puffy. 

“It’s okay, Blaine. You’re going to be okay now.” His mother wipes at her face, sniffing. “Do you remember anything that happened, sweetie?”

Confused, Blaine thinks over what could have happened. His memory fuzzy on every little detail. 

_It was the night of the Sadie Hawkins Dance at school. He had asked his friend, Milo. They were both gay and out, it seemed like a reasonable idea. No need to be shy. Going as friends, of course, but it was a night to remember; missing it wasn’t an option._

_It had been fun. There had been food and punch, they danced with each other and friends. Laughs and joking with one another. Nothing but good things. A good night._

_Then it had been time to go home. That’s when everything went to shit. His blood ran cold._

_They had been waiting outside for their ride, Milo’s dad, taking in the fresh night air. It was refreshing, washing away the crowded evenings events of the school away._

_“If it isn’t the two fairies.” A voice had said. A face blurred in his memory. He could not place it. “Come to ruin the night with your fairy dust?”_

_Blaine’s date had said something back. He couldn’t remember in detail. Milo had always been the brave one._

_Cruel laughter._

_“Come on, guys. Just go back inside and enjoy the dance.” Blaine reasoned. Fear pricked at his skin. But he had to be stronger than that._

_Someone shoved him. He couldn’t make out who. Muffled words. His chest tight, head pounding making him ache._

“Blaine?” His mother’s voice brings him back. He’s clutching the sheets without meaning to, a wave of nausea hitting him. 

“I can’t remember what happened.” Half a lie. Forcing some kind of smile at his mother hoping to dampen her concerns. 

She sighs, resigned, patting at his hand. “That’s okay. You should rest.” Standing from her seat, she kisses his temple. He flinches from it. “I’m going to call your father, see where he is. I’ll be right back.”

He watches her go, the door clicking behind her. He’s alone. Slouching in bed, brows furrowing until he has a pinch in his head, trying to recount the night's events again. 

_“Come on, guys. Just go back inside and enjoy the dance.” Blaine had said, attempting to defuse the situation._

_Someone was closing in. Jason? He could vaguely make out his face now. The basketball jock had always made snide remarks and found ways to blow spitballs at the back of Blaine’s head during class. A total jerk._

_“Now that you’ve sprinkled your faggy dust all over that gymnasium? No way in hell. That shit is probably contagious.” Jason scoffed, giving Blaine a shove. Blaine stumbles. “You think we didn’t see the display of unholy affection?”_

_“It’s a dance man.” Blaine’s date argued, but he too was shoved. By someone else. Blaine can’t make out who, too concerned by Jason advancing._

_“Shut it, Twinkerbell!”_

_That was Ben. Big guy. Football quarterback. The school pervert, who went around touching girls without their permission._

_“Just leave us alone.” Blaine tried again._

_Hands were in the front of his tuxedo jacket, yanking him violently against the nearest stone wall. His head hit it. Pain spreading from his crown and down his neck, leaving him dazed._

_“We tried to warn you freaks to stay away. But you never listen.” Jason again. Jason was the one holding his jacket. Blaine tried to kick him away, push him off, anything; to no avail._

_He’s punched in the gut, winding him. He can’t see what is going on with his date, but can hear scuffling. Maybe his date is doing better at fighting them off. Air isn’t coming easy as he’s gasping for it. Needing it. It doesn’t come. Knuckles meet his face next. Over, and over, and over again. His jaw hurts. Something cracks, Blaine can’t be sure what. Was it him? Was it his attackers? He’s on the ground._

_“Kick him harder, dude!” Cody. The Pastor’s son. Blaine knew that voice plain as day._

_Toes of dress shoes are kicking him in the ribs. He’s trying to curl into a ball, roll away, just needing to get it to stop. It doesn’t. Someone is on top of him, smashing his head against the ground. Hard. His ears ring loudly. He can’t make out voices anymore._

_Just pain._

“Blaine.” 

He comes back out. Current surroundings fading back into view. He’s in the hospital room. A figure standing at the foot of his bed. It hurts to smile. 

“Hi, Kurt.” 

Kurt returns the smile, and Blaine can attest it looks better than anything he may be trying right now. How he missed him. And those eyes.

“You look awful, Sweetheart. What happened to you?” 

Blaine’s smile fades, trying to sit up straighter, squirming in discomfort. A twinge of pain in his back that travels up to his head warns him not to do that. Kurt, seemingly noticing, moves closer. A hand placing against his shoulder, stilling him. It’s still cold. 

“Please, don’t move. You could make it worse.” Kurt says gently, and Blaine lets himself sink back down against the pillow. No point in arguing with a ghost. 

“Some guys jumped me after prom.” He can hear their yelling again, ringing in his ears, and he hates how he cringes from admitting it aloud. It made him sound weak. Would Kurt think him pathetic for not being able to defend himself? His eyes burn in humiliation. He should’ve fought back. 

“That’s awful.” Kurt removes his hand, hugging himself. “Did you report them yet?”

Blaine shakes his head. That was a bad idea. A throbbing headache hits. He closes his eyes, hoping it’ll stop. It doesn’t. Only dims. 

“No.”

There’s silence for a moment. Blaine doesn’t want to open his eyes, unsure if Kurt left. He’s scared to think the ghost would have abandoned him out of disgust. Or perhaps disappointment? Only the sound of the heart monitor beeping keeping him company. Of course Kurt thought badly of him. He should have done something. Why hang around a pathetic excuse like him who couldn’t defend himself against a couple of jerks?

“Should I go?” Kurt’s voice snaps him out of it. He hadn’t left. 

Opening his eyes, Blaine stares at the man long and hard. Those eyes still sucking him in. Getting him lost. He can’t help but to stare. After a moment, he shakes his head; slower and more calculated to keep the headache from getting worse.

“Please don’t leave me.” 

Kurt smiles at him. Any concern about him thinking poorly of Blaine is whisked away for the time being. Of course Kurt wouldn’t leave him. Kurt was his friend. 

“You father is thirty minutes away!” Blaine’s mother interrupts their moment, bringing Blaine’s focus back. “He’s setting you up with an attorney. We’re going to take those boys who did this to you and Milo see consequences for their actions.” 

“Mom...” Blaine tried, watching her move closer. As a result she walks through Kurt, as Kurt has yet to float to another spot in the room. That wasn’t something you see everyday. She shivers. 

“Blaine. Please, rest. Your father and I will handle everything, okay?” She kisses his forehead. “And I’ll be sure they turn the heat up in here, it’s freezing.” 

He and Kurt share a look. He could swear Kurt’s face flushed with color, embarrassed. 

The pain meds knock him back out not long after, all while Kurt keeps a watchful eye close by. 

_There’s that warm light again, invading his dreams. Yelling sounds all around him as he approaches it._

_“Die queer!”_

_“You and your faggot friend aren’t welcomed here!”_

_“This’ll show you!”_

_“We’ll teach you to sprinkle your fairy dust around here!”_

_At the end of the hall, Kurt is there, waiting and smiling._

_“Your kind isn’t welcome here!”_

_“Kick him harder!”_

_“Unholy displays of affection!”_

_Blaine covers his ears, running towards Kurt. Picking up speed as he goes. Needing to get closer. To get away from the voices._

_Kurt extends his hands out. He’s almost there._

_“Someone help!”_

_“Clear!”_

_“Time of death...”_

_Blaine collapses in Kurt’s arms, waking up._

The room is full of light. It’s day, he determines, and his parents are both there; talking quietly to themselves in the corner, not wanting to wake him.

Kurt’s there too, his eyes focused on Blaine from the foot of the bed. He smiles brightly when they make eye contact, then presses a finger to his lips to instruct the teen to remain quiet and not say anything. 

“They caught the guys who did this to you. You’re going to get justice.” He motions towards Blaine’s parents, still quietly talking in hushed tones. 

Blaine doesn’t feel better about that information. He feels himself frown because it makes his face hurt again. 

Kurt moves away from the foot of the bed and closer to Blaine’s side. Blaine wishes he wouldn’t. 

“They won’t get away with this.” 

Blaine doubts that’s true. No one gave a fuck about the bullying at school before, even with his dad coming in with complaints. Why would they care now? Couldn’t this get more ugly? What if they came after him for revenge? Fear spikes, tears brimming in his eyes as he shakes his head. Not caring about the headache it brings. 

“They’re going to come after me.” He says aloud, shaking his head faster. His chest is tight. He can’t breathe. It’s like he’s back on the ground, being kicked. He’s starting to hyperventilate. 

He reaches for Kurt.

“Blaine...” Kurt tries, but Blaine’s parents are moving through him to get to their panicked son. Blaine sees Kurt float back to a corner before the tears blur his eyesight entirely. 

This wasn’t happening. 

_“Kick him harder!” The voice rang in his ears, muffled despite shouting encouragement for the violence._

_“This’ll show you!” Another voice. Ben? Cody? It was distant. He could hear someone else getting hit._

_His date, Milo. They were attacking him too._

_Stop it. Make it stop._

_“Blaine?” Kurt’s voice comes through. Where was he? He can’t see him._

_“Kurt?” Blaine calls over the shouting. “Kurt, I’m scared!”_

_“Blaine.” Kurt’s voice echoes in again. “Come towards my voice, Blaine.”_

_“I can’t see you!”_

_Muffled shouts get louder. Just closing in on him. He is trying to escape it._

_“Listen to my voice, Blaine. Come towards it.”_

_Tears threaten. He’s panicking. He needs to get to Kurt. Kurt meant safety. But he can’t move._

_“Kurt! Don’t leave me!”_

_Kurt doesn’t reply._

_“Kurt?”_

Blaine wakes with a sharp intake of breath, sitting up in bed. He’s still in the hospital room. It’s night now. Kurt is the only other figure in the room, floating in the corner but still watching him. He breathes out, relaxing his grip on the blankets. 

“Hi.” The ghost smiles at him. 

“Hi.” Blaine thinks he sounds horrible and grimaces. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Thirsty?” He hadn’t realized how dry his throat felt. 

Kurt points towards the moveable table that had a water bottle on it. Blaine winces when he reaches for it. It’s only then does he take notice of how bruised his arms appear, and he is quick to hide them under the blankets, ignoring his thirst. 

“Blaine, you need to drink.” Kurt says with a sigh, floating closer again. Blaine feels himself shrink back, shame overtaking him. Kurt stops. 

“I feel pathetic.” He voices honestly. Not knowing if he would be able to be this open with anyone else. Kurt was a ghost. There was no one he could gossip to. He had come out to Kurt first for a reason. He could find it in himself to talk about his own truth on this situation. “I should’ve fought back.” 

“What good would that have done?” Kurt gently prods. Blaine sucks in a breath, staring hard at the blanket, giving a half-hearted shrug. 

“I could’ve stopped them.”

Kurt doesn’t press, floating closer. Blaine doesn’t shy away this time, pushing himself on. 

“I could’ve stopped them from hurting Milo. I could’ve stopped them from hurting me. If I wasn’t such a wimp. Maybe if I was bigger, or stronger; none of this would’ve happened.” 

“Blaine...” Kurt’s voice is right next to him again, and it draws Blaine’s gaze from the blankets. “I promise you, Sweetheart. No matter how big a person is, bullies will always bully someone they’re ignorant of. This isn’t your fault.” 

Blaine feels his hands tremble. “But still, I could’ve done something more. Something that wouldn’t have made me so weak! I’m not weak, Kurt!”

“I know you aren’t, Blaine. I would never think that of you.” Kurt’s voice is so soothing, easing Blaine down from having another attack. He’s able to take a breath. “You’re still here. You’re a lot stronger than you think you are.” 

Blaine meets Kurt understanding stare. Those gorgeous blue eyes, always staring into his soul. Still having so much life, that really made Blaine yearn to get to know him. 

“Kurt?”

“Blaine?” 

“How did you die?”

Kurt hums, averting his gaze to look out the window. Blaine isn’t sure if he crossed a line in asking. He also isn’t sure if knowing will help anything. 

“There was this Neanderthal,” Kurt begins, never taking his gaze away from the window, “who made it his mission to make my life a living hell. He did some unspeakable and cruel things all throughout high school, and I even considered taking my own life just to escape him.” 

Blaine holds his breath. 

“But he beat me to it.” Kurt laughs, it’s humorless and dry; hollow, and daunting. Blaine’s arm hair stands on end. “I had finally confronted him about his torment. He didn’t like that, and he assaulted me. He told me if I told anyone, he’d kill me. I got him suspended for the threat, but it wasn’t enough. He came back. It got worse. My senior year, he made good on his threat.” 

Kurt finally looks back at Blaine, expressionless. “I was in the locker room alone. He came in, claimed I was spying on him changing, and beat me in the showers. I remember seeing my own blood running down the shower drain. I remember the sirens of the ambulance approaching. There was so much commotion, it was all I could focus on to distract from how it hurt to move.” 

Blaine feels his heart ache. He can see the image so clear in his mind. 

This beautiful man, dying on a cold floor. Beaten and broken. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Kurt didn’t survive, but he did. 

The lights flicker. 

“He had caused some major internal bleeding. I died five minutes after my arrival here.” There’s a pause. Lights flickering again. “I died alone. I was only eighteen.” Kurt takes a breath. “I’ve been here ever since. I’ve made it my job to make sure no one feels alone here. That’s why I’m still around.”

Blaine thought back to when he and Kurt met. Being seven and left alone in the big, scary hospital room. Kurt had been his savior. A perfect distraction. Keeping him company so he was never by himself. 

“I’m so glad that you’ve decided to stay, Kurt. You’ve become a great friend to me, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” 

Kurt smiles at him. 

“I’m glad to have met you as well, Blaine. You’re definitely my favorite person to visit.” 

Despite the ghostly distance between them, Blaine reaches for the other. Kurt allows it, extending a hand. As he was expecting, their hands mesh and there is nothing but freezing cold air. But Blaine doesn’t matter. 

“Will you do something for me?” Blaine asks, sniffling. Unaware of how emotional Kurt’s story had made him until this moment. “Will you see if Milo is here too? I want to know how he’s doing.”

“Of course.” 

“Milo Escola is his name.” Blaine supplies, retracting his hand again. The pain meds must be kicking in once again, he’s fatigued and ready for more sleep. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Kurt’s smiling at him, and Blaine wishes he could just stare at that sight forever. 

“And Kurt?” 

“Yes, Blaine?” 

“Stay with me until I fall asleep?” 

Kurt shifts, seemingly sitting on the side of Blaine’s bed, though the blankets don’t dip under any possible weight. “I promise, I won’t leave you.” 

Blaine feels at ease, heavy eyelids closing. 

_“All queers deserve to burn in hell!”_

_“Kick him harder!”_

_“Somebody help!”_

_Blaine covers his ears, squeezing his eyes shut. No, this had to stop. He didn’t want this anymore._

_A hand touches him. It’s gentle, not rough. Bringing Blaine’s attention out of his petrified stupor, blanketing him in warmth. It’s Kurt._

_“It’s not your time, Blaine.” Kurt is smiling at him. A sight that never grows tiresome. Encouraging Blaine to stand, and walking with him away from the shouting until it’s barely a harsh whisper in the back of his mind._

_“You didn’t leave me.” Blaine says, clutching at Kurt’s hand in his. It’s solid. He’s actually touching the other._

_“Of course not, silly.” Kurt nudges at Blaine’s shoulder with his own. Blaine can’t help but to lean into it, grasping at the cold hand with both of his._

_“Where are we going?”_

_“No where in particular. Just need you to get some restful sleep without giving yourself frown lines. It isn’t very refined.”_

_Blaine laughs, glancing back to where they had just come from. He can’t see anything, but the further they walk the less loud the memory is heard ringing in his ears. For the moment, he feels safe._

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a series that follows Blaine Anderson’s life inside a hospital, whether as a patient or even a visitor in later chapters. The older Blaine gets, the heavier the content will become. So keep the tags in mind for future chapters! 
> 
> Disclaimer that Kurt will not be coming back from the dead at any point. He will always remain a ghost. If you are wanting happy ending with Klaine living together happily, this isn’t it.


End file.
